Senses
by Athenais777
Summary: This story is a collection of love drabbles between Ron and Hermione. Each one is themed around one of the five senses.It spans the time between the Battle of Hogwarts and the epilogue in Deathly Hallows. Rated M for a reason.
1. Touch me

Touch me

A/N: This story is a collection of drabbles around the love life of my favourite couple: Ron and Hermione. All scenes tell of an intimate moment between R and H. They are all themed around one of the five senses and cover the span between the end of the Battle of Hogwarts and the epilogue in Deathly Hallows. While I tried to keep the language clean, these are definitely scenes of a sexual nature and earn their M rating. Not for kids.

This first entry is about a first time. Oh, I know, it's been done to death but what can I say? I had some fun writing it. I might have been slightly optimistic about what a first time may feel like but hey 1) they are very much in love, 2) they live in a magical world where many things are possible and 3) did I mention it is fiction? This entry is focused on touch. I can't imagine two people who would want to touch one another more than these two. The Harry part was just because I thought Harry would need to decompress a bit (you want to know more, keep reading...) I do love Harry as a character. It starts a bit sadly (that Battle was no picnic, was it?) and ends on a definitely more cheerful note.

Enjoy, review, and please be kind, this is my first fanfic.

The early May sun was gently warming Ron's red hair. It was a beautiful Spring day: sunny and mild with a light breeze to caress the skin. A perfect day to play quidditch or just lie down in the grass. How ironic it should bear witness to Fred's funeral. As the grief rose again in him, Ron felt another tear roll down his cheek. Hard to believe he had any left. He felt Hermione's hand gently rub his back. He held her closer, resting his head on top of hers. He could see she was crying too but she seemed to steady him. Her brown hair gently tickled his chin. How much he loved this hair, the unruliness of it. Her petite frame was close to him, supporting him, warming him up, taking the edge off the pain that was gnawing at him, reminding him they were alive and now had a future in front of them.

When it was over, Hermione went to talk with Ginny to comfort her. Ron stood with Harry. They both were at a loss for words. Ron knew his best friend somehow still blamed himself for Fred's death, despite all reassurances from the entire Weasley family and from Hermione that he shouldn't. Harry gave him an awkward hug and mumbled he needed to take a walk. He was obviously hurting and wanted to be alone. Ron understood: he felt the same way. He decided to retreat to his room.

When Hermione softly knocked at the door he told her to come in. He had recognized her light steps and the gentle tap on the door as being hers. She opened the door ajar and tentatively poked her head in.

"Come in, please." he implored her.

She silently closed the door behind her. He was sitting on his bed, his arms around his knees. She noticed his red-rimmed eyes and the grief in them. She crossed the room and sat next to him.

"I am so sorry Ron."

Hermione thought she had uttered these five words too often in the last few days. They had shed too many tears as the cost of their victory came into sharp relief. She knew the grief would not go away any time soon but she had found solace in being with Ron, in knowing there was now the promise of many tomorrows for them and for many others. They had prevailed. Ron however just seemed to drown in despair.

She wanted to comfort him. Gingerly, she put her arms around him. He welcomed her warm embrace and wrapped his own arms around her waist, letting his head drop on her chest to listen to the gentle beat of her heart. He then broke down and finally gave way to the grief that was threatening to drown him. He cried like he never had in his life. Violent sobs shook his entire body and he wailed like a wounded animal. She held onto him, remembering the situation had been reversed only two days earlier.

It took almost an hour but he was no longer crying. She was still holding him, stroking his hair absently and enjoying the softness of it. She began moving to his forearms, letting her fingers gently trail over the light ginger fuzz. She took his hand and tenderly kissed it. She heard him speak in a croaky voice:

"Sorry about that."

"Ron, there is no reason to apologize. Did it help?"

"A bit. I miss him. I can't believe he's gone. I see George and wonder where Fred is and then it hits me. It wasn't supposed to be like this..."

The tears were threatening to come back.

"Ron… "

She had said his name softly. Her eyes were wet too. It was with a strangled voice she resumed:

"It will take a while for the hurt to lessen and I don't think it will ever stop. But we need to be strong. We just need to live. We need to for Fred and the others, for their sacrifice. We have something to look forward to now. We have hope." Her lips were on his cheeks, kissing the tears away. "We have each other…"

The light touch of her lips on his skin felt like a welcoming salve on a burn wound. Better than any potion, it made the pain stop. She then lowered her lips to his, gently. He gathered her closer to him. They had only shared a few stolen kisses over the last few days, during the few moments they were just the two of them. He still couldn't believe she could kiss him or touch him like that. All the years he had spent fantasising about her lips and how they would feel on his. The reality had been beyond all expectations and his had been very high ones thanks to time, pent-up feelings and a very fertile imagination.

He could not believe, despite the incredible bad timing, that she was finally in his arms, or actually he in hers. He just wanted to touch her to make sure this was real, look at her. He gently broke the kiss.

"Ron, what is it?"

She was a little breathless, her lips pink, her wild hair like a halo around her, her eyes a pool of melting chocolate. She was absolutely gorgeous and, as unbelievable as it was, his.

"You're beautiful." That elicited a shy smile. And again he felt his heart do summersaults in his chest.

"Hardly."

"Honestly, Hermione, you are gorgeous. And brilliant. You 're a wonderful friend. You're incredible, really. And brave. And you put up with a prat like me."

"You're not a prat… at least not as much as you used to… Your emotional range has definitely expanded beyond a teaspoon."

"Hey!" he said in a tone of mock-offence. She laughed lightly. Merlin, was her laugh delightful and he had not heard enough of it lately. "I love you," he blurted out.

She was silent for a few seconds, caught off-guard. Upon realizing what he had just said, he turned a crimson shade but resumed:

"I do, Hermione. I love you. I think I have for a long time, probably since second year but it took me a while to sort things out. Then when I knew, I thought you would never want a tosser like me."

She took his face in her hands and kissed him lightly.

"For the record, you're not a tosser and have never been. You're brave, loyal, funny, smart... And I love you too."

He gave her a wide grin and rested his forehead on hers. He spoke very softly:

"Hermione, when I am with you, I just… I don't know… I feel better… About me… About everything… When you kiss me, when put your hands on me, all I see is you, not the grief or the pain. You make it all go away. You mean the world to me. You… complete me. I am just sorry I wasted so much time. Hermione…"

She looked up at him, expectantly. Her eyes were wet but no longer from grief. She had waited for years to hear these words.

"Hermione… Touch me… please," he begged her.

Her lips moved to his, gently. She pressed her small body against his. He needed the contact, the shape of her against him. He wanted to feel her, just her, and sink into a blissful oblivion where his grief could be kept at bay. He let her deepen the kiss, their tongues starting a well choreographed dance. He could get completely lost in the feel of her.

Hermione wondered what had taken over her. She felt the same complex emotions as Ron: a mix of love, lust, relief, grief, elation. Her heart was swimming with all of them. But when she was with him, she felt stronger. She moaned as he bit her lower lip lightly. She needed to feel him. She wanted his hands and lips on her, all over her. She wanted to touch him, feel him all over. Her small hands searched and to her great satisfaction found bare skin underneath his shirt. The exquisite sensation made him catch his breath. He responded with much enthusiasm and his hands started roaming over the smooth small of her back. He marvelled at how soft her skin felt.

They kept exploring more skin and soon both their shirts were roughly pulled over and thrown on the floor. They sat facing each other, his back against the headboard. She delicately touched his chiselled chest, enjoying the muscle definition and the light freckles on his shoulders. He drew light circles over her bra-clad breasts. He then let the delicate straps fall off her alabaster shoulders. His fingers reached and slowly lowered the pink cottony fabric to reveal beautiful breasts. She sucked her breath in and his eyes locked on hers. Looking at her, he gently teased her nipples, enjoying the flush that crept up her cheeks. She reached behind her back, swiftly unfastened her bra and removed it completely. It was his turn to feel flushed.

The grief was momentarily completely forgotten. All that was left was a primal desire, a feral need to touch, to be with the other in the most intimate way. They caressed each other, revelling at long last in the feel of one another. He could not get enough of her, her gorgeous skin, her beautifully unruly hair, her perfect breasts. The feel of her so close to him was intoxicating. He had only dreamed of holding her this close and the reality was much better than anything he had imagined.

His hand crept up her leg, underneath her skirt and found the soft fabric that was the last obstacle. He started stroking through the cotton, delighting in the small whimpers escaping her lips. She was gripping his shoulders, steadying herself. She searched his lips again and took him in a rough kiss. In his befuddled state, he then realized where they were heading. He didn't want to stop, and wondered whether he even could. He wanted her, wanted to be inside her, wondered how it would be. But he had to ask her. He wanted to make sure. He pushed her slightly and she looked like she had when all year-end exams had been cancelled at the end of second year.

"Hermione?"

"What is it?" she asked him in a husky voice very removed from her normal one.

"Are you sure?" He looked a bit worried and uncertain. "I mean, we can stop any time you want. Actually, we should stop soon if you want to stop otherwise… you know… It might be difficult."

"Ron, yes, I am positively absolutely sure. I have never been surer of anything in my life."

He swallowed hard and murmured something sounding like "Bloody Hell". She spoke again:

"Ron, have you ever… done it?"

She looked down, blushing furiously. He knew what she was thinking. He could still kick himself for the Lavender "incident" and probably would for the rest of his life. Yet, nothing had gone further than heavy snogging, most of the time his mind filled with Hermione. Pushing things further with Lavender would have been extremely unfair to Lavender. He might have been a prat but he would not have sunk that low.

"No," he answered softly.

Her head popped up, relief etched on her face.

"You?" he asked hesitantly, not entirely sure he wanted to know the answer.

"No. I have just read about it. Haven't you?"

Of course she had read about it. She was Hermione. He smiled lightly as he saw her blush again. If only she knew about his dreams, or the fantasies he had invented each time he … had taken matters in his own hands. Well, she had featured prominently.

"Well, the kind of material like that for blokes doesn't really involve reading," he replied apologetically. "Though my Dad explained a few things when I was twelve and had some diagrams. Quite scary actually."

That made her laugh. She added playfully:

"Do you care to show me? Reading is nice but practice could help."

What had she just said?

"Bloody hell Hermione. Huh, you sure?" he asked still dazed.

"I thought I had made this point quite clear."

"Wow. We need some, huh, protection. I know a charm. Bill taught me and made me practice. Said I most likely would need it one day."

It had all come out very fast out of his mouth while he performed the charm. She was touched he remembered and was thankful since she only knew about a potion or muggle ways, none of which was available to her at the moment. And she definitely did not want to stop. She might be slightly scared but the certitude was there, unwavering.

"Brilliant!" she exclaimed. "What are you waiting for? Touch me, now."

He looked like Christmas and his birthday had come at the same time and drew her back to him.

"I love when you're bossy!"

They resumed where they had left but with a greater sense of urgency. Soon all clothes were discarded. They paused a moment to take each other in. He was awed by how beautiful she was, small and slender, maybe a bit too thin after almost a year spent on the run. Yet she was not looking fragile. She was glorious to him. She was not hiding either from his view and let his eyes roam over every part of her body from her gorgeous hair down to her round little toes.

She was studying him too, the same way she would have approached a new book: with anticipation, curiosity, and interest. She found he had a long and lean frame, with nicely defined muscles. Her eyes followed a trail of copper hair from his navel down to where the sign of his desire was very obvious. She blushed a bit but did not avert her eyes. She drew him closer to her and kissed him deeply.

He returned her kiss eagerly, using tongue and teeth. They started touching each other again, never able to sate the pangs of their desire. This was a new dance for them: skin, lips, hands in a frenzied embrace. Their inexperience was unimportant in the face of their love and need for one another. They feasted on each other like ravenous ones, the contact of flesh against flesh fuelling their passion even more.

Soon, she was fully opening to him and he entered her, inching ever slowly until he was fully sheathed in her glorious heat. He gently caressed her hair and laid a thousand little kisses on her face and neck, whispering loving nonsense as she sucked her breath in, waiting for the slight discomfort of this new intrusion to pass. He kept touching her, stroking her creamy skin, driving himself mad with the feel of her and his need for her. She was touching him back, kissing him, her clever fingers roaming over his back and his bum. She finally started rocking him gently and then, as pleasure started mounting in her, faster until they found a rhythm.

As their bodies moved together, she was looking at him through eyes heavy with passion. She was completely losing herself in the moment, savouring every second of it. She gripped him closer and while kissing him eagerly made them tumble and roll over so that she was now on top, straddling him. She could feel him even deeper and relished the fact she could fully control things that way. She set a new pace, faster and deeper. Using both a hand and his mouth, he was maddeningly teasing her nipples while his other hand returned to gently prodding the little nub of flesh at her centre. Faster, she thought as a strange tingling started building through her. A cry escaped her -his name- and he could feel her tighten around him as a shudder ran through her body. She was shocked by the suddenness of the sensation ripping through her and gave in to it, revelling in this delightful explosion of her senses.

She looked at him through her contentment and saw his eyes glaze over as he too found his release, all the while screaming her name. He was completely lost. Surely he had died and found heaven. He had never imagined feeling this way, so completely wrapped in her, not even in his wildest dreams. And he had dreamed of this moment thousands of times for the last four years, in his four-poster bed at Hogwarts, in the depressing room at Grimmauld Place, in this damned tent where she quietly had slept just a few feet away, in this very bed.

As their breathing finally returned to a normal pace, they slowly untangled from one another and he gathered her in his arms, tightly, never wanting to let her go again. They stayed like this for a while, not needing to talk. Ron's mind was racing. He had finally lost his virginity and with the only girl, no, woman, he had wanted to do it with. It had not felt that bad at all. Actually, it had been bloody amazing for him. Had it been the same for her? She seemed to have enjoyed herself. But he had seen the wince on her face. He had to ask her.

"Did it hurt?" his face was etched with worry.

"A little bit when you… you know."

He looked horrified.

"It's alright Ron. It's just the first time. During the initial penetration, you have to break through this little membrane and… "

She stopped herself and blushed slightly. "I sound like a book, don't I?"

He just nodded still looking quite green.

"Ron, it went away and the whole thing was lovely. I did quite enjoy myself in the end. Actually, it was…" she thought for a minute and with a smile added "bloody brilliant."

The shock of hearing her use such language made him almost fall off the bed.

"Hermione! Language!"

She burst out laughing, probably for the first time in a long while.

"You know I love when you speak like this," he told her a wide grin on his face. "We might have to do this more often if you speak like that afterward."

She smiled cheekily. They might have to wait a day or two but it wouldn't be that bad, she thought. It would actually be a brilliant idea. She looked at him lying next to her, nonchalant and completely at ease with his nudity. Yes, definitely a good idea. She pulled his head to hers and gave him a greedy kiss, not hearing the door opening.

"Ron, your Mum is calling for dinner!" a familiar voice interrupted them. "Merlin! What… How… My eyes!"

Harry had just entered the room he normally shared with Ron and had frozen at the sight of his two best friends. In Ron's bed. Naked. Doing things he never wanted to imagine them doing. He had his eyes shut tightly while Ron and Hermione scurried to hide their bodies and find clothes to put on them.

For a very short moment, Harry understood how Ron felt when he saw him snog Ginny. Wait, that was not the same… Ginny and he only snogged —for now— and did it fully clad –for now… But the image of the beautiful Ginny was replaced by the unfortunate vision he had just witnessed when Ron shouted reproachfully:

"Harry! Can you effing knock? Leave us alone!"

Harry found he had been rooted to the spot by the shock of his ill-fated interruption. He opened his eyes and saw Ron looking at him, wearing only boxers and a murderous look. He was standing protectively in front of Hermione who was hiding behind him, wrapped in the sheet and looking profoundly mortified.

Harry was too tired to fight. If he was true to himself, Harry had to recognize he would not be able to fight anyone for a while, especially not his best mate, who incidentally looked quite poised to beat him to a bloody pulp. Who was he kidding? He knew Ron and Hermione had cared for each other for a while even if both of them had been too stubborn to admit it until recently. He sighed deeply and said ruefully:

"I am sorry. I did think you would end up… well… you know… but I just didn't want to see any of this. It's not right."

"What do you mean it's not right?" Ron's tone was cold and menacing.

Harry was surprised by his reaction and then realized the misinterpretation.

"I mean, me, walking in on you, in there, doing… What were you doing exactly?"

The scowl Ron gave him made him cower. He thought he saw Hermione's mouth twitch a little and he shuddered at the images this brought. He resumed:

"Anyway, I am sorry. Trust me, I know how it feels. Remember when you walked on me and Ginny last year on my birthday."

Another menacing scowl. Probably not the best topic to bring up given the situation, Harry thought. He sighed again.

"This is awkward. Look, both of you. I am sorry I walked in on you and trust me when I say I don't want to ever think about this again. Seriously, I am happy for you. I really am. Merlin knows it took you long enough. But I REALLY didn't want to see this. I think I'll need muggle therapy now."

"Umph" was Ron's answer which Harry interpreted as Ron accepting his apology and Harry lips twitched lightly. He thought he saw Ron's lips mirroring it. Actually as Ron's temper abated, his face took on a look of positive giddiness. Harry was about to comment when they were interrupted by Hermione.

"Boys, would you mind getting out so I can put my clothes back on?"

She had made the request with an impressive amount of dignity given she was still standing only wrapped in the top sheet from Ron's bed. Harry felt very embarrassed all over again and exited promptly muttering "Sorry". Ron grabbed his trousers and shirt, gave a quick kiss to Hermione and joined Harry on the landing.

"Feeling better?" Harry asked teasingly as Ron put his clothes back on.

"Sorry mate. It just happened." Ron didn't look that sorry actually.

"Don't apologize. The way you smile right now, it doesn't feel very sincere."

Ron chuckled and slapped him on the arm.

"Watch it, Potter!"

"You know, she is like my sister. So I never want to know what you two are doing. And if you ever hurt her, I will hex you into the next year. Well that is if she doesn't beat me to it. Hermione can be scary sometimes when she is ticked off."

"That, she can be!" Ron agreed as he remembered a certain flock of canaries. "Harry, I love her. I would never hurt her."

"I know, mate. I think everyone has known for years, except the two of you. Just do me a favour. Cast a charm next time so that nobody walks in on you."

"Harry, please keep this quiet, you know Hermione and me being uh… closer. Mum and Dad have enough to worry about right now."

"I will but you will have to stop looking like you've been hit by a bludger."

Hermione opened the door to see Ron and Harry laugh together, something she had not seen in months.

"What are you two laughing about? Can we go and eat? I am famished."

"Ron, what have you done to her?" whispered Harry. "She is turning into you."

"Sure you want to know?"

"No, I certainly don't…"


	2. Cherry on top

Cherry on top

A/N: This chapter is about tasting. This is the fluffiest of all and was fun to write (chocolate and raspberries are a perfect combo). There is a little side of Harry/Ginny and a glimpse into the relationship between Harry and Hermione.

Please review

Harry was sitting across from her at the table. They were enjoying an early breakfast. It had been so long since they had been able to sit together. She looked at him. His black hair was sticking up at all angles and his green eyes still looked a bit unfocused behind his glasses as he drank his tea greedily. He badly needed to shave and she saw the dark circles under his eyes. He felt her gaze on him.

"Hermione, why are you staring at me? It's a bit annoying really."

"You look tired. What time did you get home last night?"

"None of your business," he said without heat as he smirked at her.

"Right. I'll ask Ginny when she comes in."

"No, you won't. Oh, and by the way, Hermione, I thought that by now you certainly knew how to use a silencing charm."

Hermione blushed to a shade that would have made any Weasley proud. She was positive Ron and she had used a silencing charm last night… and a locking one… and a contraceptive one.

Harry let out a bark of laughter.

"Just taking the mickey out of you!"

She punched him in the shoulder.

"Ouch! Seriously I didn't hear anything and I certainly don't want to think about what you two do. Your reaction was priceless though. I reckon I'd rather not play that one on Ron."

"Probably not. I would also not mention your late night with Ginny." It was her turn to smile at Harry's wince.

"Oh, don't worry. One day he will be alright with you and Ginny being together."

"Yes… when trolls fly. She'll always be his little baby sister. And she has four more brothers," he muttered.

"Aren't you going on a date with Ginny this afternoon? She mentioned some muggle activity."

"I am taking her to see a film. She's never seen a muggle film."

"Not to mention the dark theatre and the opportunity for endless snogging…"

"That too." He cleared his throat.

"Um, Hermione, what are you doing this afternoon? You and Ron?" he asked tentatively.

"Why? I thought you didn't want to know," she replied cheekily.

"Seriously? Is it all that you do?" he asked, only half jokingly.

"No idea what you are talking about, Harry. Your imagination obviously runs wild. You need some time alone? It's your house, you know."

"Yeah, and both of you live here, supposedly each in your own room. It's just uh… I want to make sure uh… that I know what time I can uh… expect you home so I can tell Kreacher when to start dinner."

She smiled at him, frankly amused.

"Harry, you really are a bad liar. It's Kreacher's night off."

He mentally kicked himself. Of course Hermione would know when the house elf would be off. He came clean:

"I would just like some quiet time this afternoon with Ginny."

"So you defeated Voldemort but you are afraid of your best friend's reaction if he finds you with his sister? Pa-the-tic. 4 o'clock! We are going on a picnic this afternoon. The muggle park next door. I'll make sure we get home after 4 o'clock. "

"Cheers Hermione." He looked truly relieved.

They saw the fireplace illuminate with green flames and Ginny emerged. She was carrying something. She got out and gave a quick hug to Hermione and a light kiss to Harry.

"What are those?" asked Harry

"Oh, just some raspberries. I got them from the kitchen this morning. Mum is sending them. You know she doesn't trust you and Ron to feed yourselves properly and somehow, I don't think she trusts your cooking abilities either," she turned to Hermione with an apologetic smile.

Hermione could barely fault Mrs. Weasley for thinking so. She could cook basic food but nothing nearly as delicious as the meals she had always enjoyed at the Burrow. The truth was that Harry and probably Ron too could cook better than she ever would.

Ginny started again: "I can't stay anyway. Just here to deliver a message."

"And it gives you an excuse to see Harry," smiled Hermione.

"That too. Mum wants all three of you to the Weasley dinner tonight at 5 o'clock sharp."

As she was saying this, Ron entered the room. He was not very awake but the first person he saw was Hermione and a big lopsided grin split his face.

"Oh, that's just sick the way he looks at you like a puppy," Ginny muttered to Hermione.

"Effing good morning to you too Ginny," Ron retorted as the grin grew wider.

Ginny gave him a devilish smile before bending down to give Harry a greedy kiss. As she stepped in the fireplace to head back to the Burrow, she smirked at Ron:

"It certainly is!"

Hermione was packing the basket for the picnic. She took the bowl of raspberries that Ginny had brought earlier. They would make a delicious dessert, especially coupled with the chocolate her father had brought back for her and Ron from Switzerland.

Ron was looking at her. He noticed, quite amused, that the summer cotton dress she was wearing had cherries all over: on the tight bodice and on the flaring skirt. It made him hungry… for her. He thought back of the night before, the taste of her lips on his, of her skin under his, the taste of her. He put his arms around her waist and playfully kissed the soft skin at the nape of her neck. She wore her fabulous hair in a high pony tail, leaving him full access to the graceful curve. She giggled and turned around.

"Ron, Harry could be here any minute. It is his house after all. We don't want a repeat of last year." She smiled sheepishly at the memory. "Seriously, this is all we've been doing for the last two days. You know, we need to stop for a minute."

"Yeah, that's what George told me yesterday when I helped him at the shop." George had also called him a randy git and told him he ought to wipe that silly grin off his face as it was a walking advertisement that his little brother was getting lucky way too often.

"How is he?"

"Doing loads better. He still misses Fred. We all do. But the shop is doing really well and I think there is more than friendship between Angelina and him. They are just taking it slow."

"You're the one to talk about dating your best friend and taking it slow," she teased him.

She added some more food to the basket and declared they were ready.

"So, where are we going?"

"Oh, just the muggle park around the corner. You haven't been there yet? It has beautiful trees and lawns, perfect for a picnic. You'll like it."

She smiled and gave him a quick kiss. It was so good to be back together. They had spent the last year apart except for a few stolen moments here and there during Hogsmeade week-end visits and the holiday breaks. She had finished her seventh and last year of school and he was in full Auror training.

He had decided not to go back to Hogwarts. He had stayed with his family, helped George with the shop. Then he moved in with Harry at Grimmauld place and started Auror training along with his best mate. He had missed her terribly.

She had it harder. The school had felt different without Harry and Ron. She had Ginny and Luna with her but she had missed "the boys". Her connection with Harry was so strong they often could understand each other without speaking. She told things to Harry she didn't tell Ginny, even if he was a man. And Ron… No one could replace him. She still had managed to earn seven N.E.W.T.s and had a job waiting for her at the Ministry of Magic starting in September. Harry had asked her if she wanted to move to Grimmauld Place after school. They had decided months ago it would be the best solution for now. She had moved in two days earlier just as she had finished school and come back from spending a few days with her parents. She had her own room, conveniently located across the hall from Ron's while Harry's bedroom was on the floor above.

She had not made much progress on the move to her room though. Ron and she had spent most of their time back together in his bedroom, tearing each other's clothes off. But on this glorious July day, she was taking him to a picnic to celebrate their being back together.

They walked to the park, hand in hand, with Ron carrying the basket. They climbed a hill and found a nice spot under the shade of a large oak tree. Hermione declared it perfect and grabbed a blanket out of the basket. She spread it on the ground and sat on it, inviting him to join her. He sat across from her, smiling at her. They started talking about the last ten months, making up for lost time, laughing, enjoying each other's company as they ate the food. He grabbed the bowl with the raspberries. He took one:

"Open up," he asked and playfully put the ripe raspberry in her mouth, focusing on her lips. His fingers lingered a bit on them, enjoying the softness, remembering how hot they could grow.

"Those are delicious!" she enthused. "You know, I brought some chocolate too. Always thought raspberries and chocolate were a perfect combination."

She rummaged through the basket (she must have put an undetectable extension charm on it to bring so many things in it) and retrieved a bar of dark chocolate.

"My parents went to Switzerland for a dental conference and brought this back for me... and you. They seem to remember your love of chocolate. I guess it must have slipped when I talked about you." Which was a lot... but she didn't mention that aloud to him.

"This is dark chocolate." She put a piece in his mouth. "It's supposed to be better, less sugar," she explained. She plopped another raspberry in her mouth, along with a piece of chocolate, all innocent sensuality. "That's something dentists would pay attention to. But dark chocolate is also better for you according to muggle medicine."

"Huh huh," he absently answered. He was wondering if raspberry and chocolate would taste the same on her tongue.

"It seems there are quite a few muggle studies that have demonstrated that dark chocolate had some powerful flavanoids."

"Flavanoids, right."

She looked at him, half-stern, half-amused.

"Ron! You're not listening, are you?"

She plopped more chocolate and raspberry in her mouth. He felt his loins tighten at the sight.

"Oh yes I am. Dark chocolate is good for you according to your dentist parents and to muggle healers."

"They are called doctors."

"Muggle doctors," he resumed. "I could have told you myself. I always reckoned that if chocolate tastes so good, it has to be good for me. Just like you."

She was about to talk again, her smart mouth opening. Before another word could escape her, he took her lips, tasting the wonderful combination of raspberry, chocolate, and Hermione. A long kiss. He finally broke it.

"You know what?"

She was speechless still catching her breath. He didn't wait for an answer.

"Chocolate tastes even better in your mouth."

She blushed, reminding him of the delicious raspberries. Her eyes still lowered and her cheeks still slightly pink, she asked him in a voice huskier than her usual one:

"Would you like another taste?"

She wanted to kill him, didn't she? He grabbed her by her waist and lowered her to the spread blanket before devouring her lips, tasting on her tongue the tartness of the raspberries, the slight bitterness of the chocolate and the sweetness of Hermione, completely her own.

His lips went down to her collarbone, lingering. A moan escaped her. Hermione was never silent. He then remembered they were in a public muggle park and though they were quite secluded under their oak tree, he would prefer a bit more privacy. He removed his wand from the back pocket of his jeans and, at a great cost, pulled away from her sweet embrace. She protested.

"Hermione!" He was slightly out of breath. "Public muggle park. Need to concentrate to cast spell."

He had mastered the Disillusionment charm some time back but was not sure he could manage it with her lips attached to his. She could of course cast the spell in her sleep, having always been prodigiously talented at charms but he somehow doubted she would have thought of it in her current state. Since when was he the serious one he mused. He cast the spell quickly and returned to her.

She was looking at him with big brown eyes full of promises, her mouth slightly open. Then very deliberately, she took a piece of chocolate and oh so slowly made it disappear in her mouth, her big brown eyes never leaving him. She then proceeded to lick her fingers, one by one, to remove any trace the chocolate might have left. She grabbed his shirt and very slowly pulled him to her. She kissed him long and deep. She could taste the chocolate on his tongue too and also that hint of spearmint. He always tasted like spearmint.

She lowered her lips, unbuttoning his shirt and discarding it, laying soft kisses all over his chest, drawing lazy circle with the tip of her tongue, eliciting a sweet ecstasy from him.

"My turn," he panted as he rolled her on her back to pin her underneath him.

He undid all the buttons in the front of her cherry-themed dress. He was pleasantly surprised to see she was wearing nothing but a pair of light cotton knickers underneath, also adorned with cherries. He looked at her with a raised eyebrow and she smiled coyly at him.

"I thought you would like that."

"As always, your brilliant brain deduced correctly."

He lowered his head to her and started feasting on her exposed breast, nibbling gently at her hardened nipples. They reminded him of the raspberries. He was never going to be able to eat raspberries again without thinking of her. Same went for chocolate and probably cherries too.

Slowly he descended down to her navel. His tongue enjoyed the sweetness of her skin, the slightly salty and tangy taste of her. Lower he went. He took a last look at the bright cherries printed on the white cotton and made the piece of fabric glide down her legs, finally removing it. Her breathing was getting ragged. He resumed exploring her with his tongue until he met her hot and wet centre. She had put her hands in his hair and was now pulling. Slowly, almost torturously, he used his tongue and fingers to play with her, titillating, bringing her ever closer to the edge until she finally went over it, screaming his name. She went all limp under him.

Tasting her so intimately, knowing he could cause such abandonment in her drove him insane with need for her. He wanted to bury himself in her, see her enrapt in pleasure, crying his name. He kept caressing her body gently, using tongue and hands. She was coming back to her senses. She reached for his jeans and struggled with his fly. He helped her and divested himself of his trousers and boxers. He was naked and she enjoyed the view: his long and lean body, his broad shoulders, nicely defined muscles and flat stomach. Despite all he ate, he was also in prodigious shape thanks to the rigorous Auror training and an amazing metabolism.

"You're staring!" he whispered in her ear as he nibbled her earlobe.

She pushed him on his back and straddled him. She took him inside her in a single fluid move, eliciting a delighted moan from him. She set the pace, slow at first and building to a more frenzied rhythm. All the while he was sucking on her breast, nipping at her tight nipples and revelling in the wild look of her: her hair coming undone, her skin glistening with sweat, her lips swollen from their previous kisses. She could feel the pressure building in her again, the strange tingling yielding to a mind blowing explosion of senses. He lost himself in her, holding her tightly as he screamed her name.

They came back to Grimmauld Place at half past four. Hermione had tried to readjust her hair but had given up. As they got in, they found Harry and Ginny in the living room, sitting together on the sofa, playing a game of chess. Harry's glasses were a bit askew and Ginny's beautiful red hair was a bit more tousled than usual. Ron went to sit in the opposite sofa, feigning interest in the chess game. Ginny sighed and went to the kitchen where Hermione was emptying the rest of the basket. Ginny looked at Hermione with a grin that was not unlike George's at his most mischievous. She then whispered to Hermione:

"The buttons on your dress are mismatched. That's something Mum will notice tonight you know."

Hermione looked down and turned a nice shade of pink as she saw that indeed, the buttons at the front of her summer dress were not paired properly. She must have fumbled with them as she had put the dress back on. She readjusted the buttons as Ginny grinned openly.

"I reckon the picnic went well then."

Hermione was a bit annoyed by her friend's cheek and then saw it. She whispered in Ginny's ear.

"Ginny, your skirt is inside out."

As Ginny quickly adjusted her skirt, Hermione saw her friend's resemblance with another of her brothers as her cheeks turned an embarrassing bright red.

"I reckon you enjoyed the quiet afternoon with Harry then."

Molly and Arthur had been delighted to see Hermione. Hermione found them to be in good spirits. Molly still had a melancholy look in her eyes when nobody was looking but she also laughed and was unstoppable on the topic of her first granddaughter, Victoire, born just a few weeks before. She explained that was why Bill and Fleur could not make it. And Charlie had returned to Romania.

Molly and Arthur were sitting at each end of the table. Hermione was sitting on one side between Harry and Ron and she was facing Ginny who was between George and Percy. They all enjoyed the delicious meal Molly had prepared. When dessert came, Molly brought a beautiful chocolate cake decorated with ripe and lush raspberries on top. As he saw the cake, Ron started changing to a slightly pink colour as glimpses of the picnic replayed in his mind. He was very glad his mother was not a legilimens.

"So, Hermione, how was the picnic?" asked Molly enthusiastically.

Hermione blushed slightly for a second but kept her cool head and managed to answer truthfully:

"Delicious Molly, absolutely delicious. Thank you for the raspberries by the way. Ron and I really enjoyed them and had a wonderful time at the picnic."

Whether Molly and Arthur saw anything or not, they pretended to be satisfied with this answer. Percy definitely did not notice anything out of the ordinary in Hermione's response. Ginny snorted loudly while George mumbled to her: "Delicious, wonderful time. I bet… Randy git!" and Harry whispered in Hermione's ear: "Honestly? Don't you two ever stop?"

Ron had turned a shade rivalling one of a tomato.

It was nothing however to the shade he turned the following week when, during a dinner between Ron, Hermione and her parents, Mr. Granger asked Ron how he had enjoyed the Swiss chocolate.


	3. Seeing Red

**A/N** This chapter revolves around the sense of sight and includes, gasp, Ron and Hermione arguing. Something unheard of... Well, this is not as simple as one could think. What if Ron is egging Hermione on purpose so he can enjoy the fight and what follows. Dear Ron, always the strategist. Cameo by Crookshanks.

Enjoy and please review. Oh, and I forgot to mention this before but disclaimer: none of the characters belong to me (I wish)...

* * *

**Chapter 3: Seeing Red**

Ron was looking at his wife. Hermione had a finger poked at his chest. Her hair was bushier than usual, a wild mass of frizz. Her eyebrows were tightly knit together and her brown eyes were shooting figurative daggers at him. She looked gorgeous and took his breath away.

He heard her accuse him of being inconsiderate. He saw her lips move, heard the sound escaping them but could only think of how beautiful and pink and soft-looking they were. How much he longed to kiss them now. But he had to be patient. Part of his strategy involved getting her a bit more wound up. He had found a good excuse to start it all when he had purposely left the toothpaste uncapped that morning. The only child of two dentists, Hermione was slightly peculiar about all oral hygiene products. Ron had learnt early on while living with her that not recapping the toothpaste tube drove her mad.

"Are you listening to me Ronald? How many times have I told you to recap the toothpaste? It otherwise gets dry."

She had called him by his full name. That was a good sign she was getting worked up just to where he wanted her. He had to get into this too, or at least pretend. He was definitely not annoyed with her, not in the least. He actually was quite turned on by her outburst of indignation, painfully so and was thankful she was too busy spewing reproaches at him to notice how tight his trousers had suddenly become.

"So, you're a witch, aren't you? Can't you use a charm to fix that?"

"Oh Ron! You are exasperating," she screamed in frustration.

Of course he was! How else could he get her in this state? Her cheeks were pink, the same way they would turn after especially good sex. Her chest was heaving. The top button of her blouse had come undone and he could see the round swell of her breasts rising and falling. He could see the edge of white lace on them. He loved her breasts encased in lace although he preferred them bare and with his hands or his mouth on them. If he played this right, he should be there very shortly.

She drew him back to the moment:

"Ronald, look at me when I am talking to you, not my breasts."

He must have stared just a little bit too long.

"They are definitely worth looking at," he retorted cheekily.

"Argh!" she said and threw her arms up in the air.

That made him grin openly. It was slightly funny to see Hermione frustrated for words. It was an extremely rare occurrence and he thought he was the only one who could cause it.

"Are you mocking me? It is absolutely not funny."

She was jabbing her finger at him again. This was the moment for the final attack. He caught her hand and crashed his mouth on hers. She first protested but when his tongue darted through her lips, she allowed him full entrance and responded with much enthusiasm, just as he had expected. The kiss was not gentle. It was rough and heated, and involved teeth.

He was still holding her right wrist and she struggled against him, desperately trying to free her captive hand, working herself in an even greater state of agitation. She was kissing him savagely, while pushing against him, making him take a few steps backward. He had eight inches and about four stones on her but she was overpowering him. He hit the wall with a harsh thud. He winced for a second thinking of the bruise he would have soon and mentally cursed his pale red-hair skin but she didn't even wink. Her eyes were open and wild, locked on him while her mouth was ravishing him. She used her free hand to tear at his shirt taking a few buttons out in the process. He let go of her other hand and she finished opening his shirt to expose his chest, running her palms all over it, scratching him lightly with her short nails.

He started undoing the buttons on her blouse. It was difficult for him to focus on the tiny mother of pearl buggers as she had her tongue all over his mouth and her hands all over his chest. She helped him, temporarily taking her hands off him, much to his chagrin, and did quick work of her blouse and skirt. She was only wearing the lacy bra that had teased him earlier from under her blouse and matching knickers that beautifully espoused her round bum.

He broke their kiss, needing some air, to peek at the beautiful vision in front of him. He could never grow tired of looking at her. She stood in front of him, wearing two measly pieces of lace, her body a magnificent map of curves and valleys. Her hair had reached phenomenal proportions, even for her, and her eyes had a unique spark to them. She looked gorgeous, fierce, and quite determined to have him.

"What?" she asked curtly.

"You're beautiful."

"Brilliant, now shut up and do something about it!"

She fisted her hands in his fiery hair, one of her favourite things to do, and went back to an intense and greedy kiss. While her hands worked feverishly on his belt and fly, his were reaching under her bra, possessively fondling her breasts. She had opened his trousers and was pushing them down his legs, unveiling the throbbing sign of his desire. She moved her hands down and seized him in a not so gentle way, stroking mercilessly, while keeping her eyes on his, as if challenging him. He lost any restraint he had left. He reached for her knickers and slid them down. He lifted her beautiful naked behind as she wrapped her legs around him. He turned around, put her against the wall to help support her, and just unceremoniously thrust into her. He heard her gasp of surprise but it was soon replaced by a feral moan as she started pumping her hips, answering each of his thrusts with the same ardour she had used to kiss him. Her breasts had spilled out of her lacy bra (it had become quite askew a few minutes before) and he enjoyed their bobbing against his chest. He felt her hair tickle his shoulders and her nails dig in his back. And he saw it on her face. Her pupils had dilated, her mouth was open and slightly contorted. He kept looking as she climaxed very hard. This was his undoing. He could not hold anymore and just exploded in her.

They both slid down, their legs weakened. As his breath came back to him, Ron mentally congratulated himself for another good bout of strategy. It had been fairly simple, really, but the payoff had been fantastic. He enjoyed sex with Hermione tremendously and not just because he was a healthy man of twenty-five and she was a desirable woman unafraid of taking the lead. The passion was always there along with the deep unwavering love. He also enjoyed fighting with her. Arguing had always been part of their relationship and as it had evolved, the bickering had actually become a very enjoyable form of foreplay. He had just figured out that he could provoke the rows just to have what ensued. He was just running out of excuses to get her started.

Hermione was sitting like a lump against Ron's chest, listening intently to his heart finally returning to a normal rhythm. It was always a very comfortable place. She was thankful to Ron. Her day had been a stressful one and she had needed the outlet. She thought Ron was getting slightly too noticeable with his attempts at getting her in a snit. Not recapping the toothpaste tube? While that was a new one, it was a bit too obvious. She gave him credit though as he had still managed to work her in quite a state. He could always do that, in bad ways and excellent ones. Maybe it was her turn to play him and give her beloved husband a bit of respite. She had had her petty revenge for the toothpaste incident earlier that morning. Could she have something else? She thought hard, which even for her brilliant brain was quite a feast after what she had just experienced. And then it came to her.

Later that evening, as she was lying in bed waiting for him to join her, she saw him looking everywhere.

"Love, have you seen my Cannons shirt, you know the one that I bought last month?"

"Oh! Actually, Crookshanks found it and sort of ripped it to pieces," she replied in all innocence.

She saw the top of his ears redden.

"How did that bloody thing you call a cat get into my shirt?" he asked between clenched teeth. He still had not taken kindly to Crookshanks after all these years.

"I might have accidentally left the shirt out this morning when I found the tube of toothpaste open."

"Why would you do this to me Hermione?" he asked her in an irate tone.

"Because you did not recap the toothpaste," she repeated stubbornly.

He was getting really annoyed with her. She had never told him, but she found him quite a handsome vision when he was angry. There was a dangerous air to him that made her shiver. As Ron advanced to the bed with his finger pointing at her accusingly, Hermione thought this was brilliant and that she was very ready for another round of fight and sex. She could always tell him later that she had put the shirt back to its original shape effortlessly. She was a witch after all, wasn't she? For now, she had better things to attend to.


	4. How Sweet the Sound

**A/N**_ This one is the shortest of the series and the one I personally prefer. It revolves around hearing and is mostly from Ron's point of view. The story is also a tribute to their love and involves the dynamics in their couple and offers a glimpse of them as parents. It shows a softer, more tender side of intimacy. _

_I am still working on the last part of the series (which will be about scent). Hopefully I will have it up in the next few days._

_Please enjoy and review._

_Disclaimer: still not mine_

* * *

**Chapter 3 How Sweet the Sound**

Her screams resonated. He was just bellowing her name in despair, trapped, useless in the cellar. Harry was telling him to keep it together. He couldn't. He would go mad. Another horrible drawn-out scream!

"Hermione!"

"Ron," her voice came from far away, soft and urgent. "Wake up Ron!" He was being shaken awake. "Ron, wake up. It's a nightmare."

His eyes flew open and he saw his wife's worried face, her big brown eyes tired and full of worry for him.

He reached for her and held her tightly in his arms.

"Usual?" she asked quietly. He nodded. It had been more than ten years and every now and then, his worst living memory came back to haunt him at night. Her screams! He still remembered vividly, the piercing pain, the agony of losing her. And each time, her soft voice would take him out of the abyss of his darkest nightmare.

"You know, I heard you scream my name while she was torturing me." She hated remembering this episode of her life. And he knew. She had told him. She had also told him that his screams for her had helped her endure the odious pain. "You saved my life that night."

"I could not go without you," he replied earnestly. "Not then, not now." He held her closer and kissed her forehead, still marvelling after all these years that he was the lucky one to hold her, and that she was holding him back.

They heard it together, the high-pitched wail of Hugo.

"He's hungry. It's time for his middle of the night meal."

With slight regret, she broke the warm embrace and got out to retrieve the baby from his cot.

"Come here, come see Mummy," she cooed as she settled in the old armchair. She opened her nightgown and waited for little Hugo to latch on her breast. As he found milk, the baby stopped crying and suckled peacefully. Ron watched them, his beloved wife and one of the two little miracles their love had created.

"I'll go and check on Rose."

"That one is like you… She sleeps like a stone," Hermione answered playfully.

He got up, kissed both his wife and son and went across the hall to check on little Rose. As her mother had predicted, she was fast asleep. He readjusted the cover on her and the stuffed hippogriff toy Rose liked so much, a gift from Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny. He tenderly kissed her forehead and told the sleeping toddler:

"Sweet dreams Rosie. Your Daddy loves you very much."

When he came back into his room, he heard Hermione. She was singing a muggle nursery rhyme to little Hugo. Her voice was slightly off key, but it was the sweetest thing he had ever heard.

He got back in bed and sat waiting for her while she nursed Hugo and sang to him. Hugo looked truly happy to listen to his mother while he gently ate. At four months, he still occasionally woke up at night, often in a wail because he was hungry: no doubt, the lad was definitely his son. He always calmed down when Hermione started singing. Ron could relate to that. The sound of her voice was always so nice to hear no matter how she spoke.

Hearing his name escape her lips… She could be:

Affectionate: "Ron, I am home, Love. How was your day?" She always greeted him that way, even if her day had been complete and utter rubbish.

Reproachful: "Ron, exactly how many chocolate frogs did you let Rose eat?" What could he say? At only two, Rose had inherited his fondness for chocolate.

Annoyed: "Ron, can you stop tapping your fingers on the table? I am trying to read about the Goblin Rebellion." He would just tap louder so she could get all up in arms and start a row. There was nothing like make-up sex with Hermione.

Coaxing: "Ron, you remember my school uniform and that little deviant fantasy of yours. Well, we could see about a variation on that if you could please change Rose's nappy." Rose had outdone herself on that one but the payout had been spectacular.

Despondent: "Ron, Ron, don't leave". Yeah, he still kicked himself for having left Harry and her alone in the middle of the forest during their Horcrux hunt.

Angry: "YOU – COMPLETE – ARSE – RONALD – WEASLEY" He had definitely been one but her voice had brought him back.

Elated: "Ron, we're going to have a baby." The smile on her face had been priceless.

Excited: "Ron, we're going to have a baby." Her water had just broken. The panic on his face must have been priceless.

Proud: "You are now a full Auror, Ronald Weasley." They had celebrated this achievement extensively, a long way into the night.

Sympathetic: "I am so sorry Ron." She had consoled him after Fred's funeral. With several years of hind sight, he actually thought Fred would have had a good laugh to be the trigger for the first time between ickle Ronniekins and Hermione.

Determined: "Yes, I will marry you Ronald Weasley." She had also confirmed he could be a prat at times, but only her prat.

Passionate: each time they brought each other over the sweet edge, his name was always on her lips, like a caress "Oh Ron".

"Ron?" she said softly. She was back in the bed next to him drawing him out of his wandering thoughts.

"Is he asleep?"

"Yes. A full belly, a clean nappy, and somehow my singing seem to be the recipe to his happiness," she half joked, aware that her singing was definitely out of tune. "I hope soon we will be able to completely eliminate these middle-of-the-night feeds."

"He is my son… Always hungry," Ron smiled.

She smiled back at him.

"Are you alright? The dream… It had been a while."

"Yes, yes I am alright. You are here, Hermione and she is gone. She can't hurt you anymore."

Hermione pondered that. It seemed to her that Bellatrix could still hurt her when she heard the anguish in Ron's voice during his nightmares. To her, that was worse than the Cruciatus curse. But that was their cross to bear: the scars and hurts that had been the price of their victory over the most evil wizard of all times.

She put her arms around him.

"I love you Ron."

"I love you Hermione."

He kissed her softly. She kissed him back and held him closer, aching for more. They started undressing. Slowly, gently, tenderly, they made love. He savoured every little moan and whimper escaping her but no sound was sweeter than hearing her saying his name over and over, so lovingly.

* * *

**A/N**_: As an aside, I think that the Malfoy Manor scene in DH is one of the most powerful in the entire book. In my opinion, Ron was as much tortured as poor Hermione and in a much worse way. So, I think he is the one who would have the long-lasting nightmares._


	5. Soap, Mint, and Chocolate

**A/N** _Here we are, last chapter in the series. This one deals with scent, although the "sense" is not as central an element as in the other chapters. This is set on the 20th anniversary of Bill and Fleur's wedding, just a month short of the epilogue. It is short and sweet._

_Enjoy and please review._

_Disclaimer: still not mine_

* * *

**Chapter 5: Soap, Mint, and Chocolate**

"Congratulations! Twenty years!" Ron said while patting his older brother on the back. "Fleur..."

Even after all the years, he was still a bit short on words each time he was face to face with his dazzlingly beautiful sister-in-law. Hermione tightened her hold on his arm as she spoke:

"Congratulations to both of you. Twenty years of marriage is quite an accomplishment. We wish you many more years of happiness."

"Thank you. This is so sweet of you." Bill and Fleur gave them a brilliant smile. After twenty years and three children, they still looked madly in love with each other.

Shell Cottage was about to burst at the seams with all the people who had come to celebrate the twentieth anniversary of Bill and Fleur's wedding. Hermione remembered vividly the wedding, how Ron and she had shared their first dance and how that tender moment had been abruptly replaced by screams and panic mere minutes later. She remembered the madness that had followed; the constant fear and running. She put her head on Ron's shoulder as they walked through the guests, enjoying the comfortable spot and the familiar scent of him. He wrapped his arm around her waist to bring her closer and kissed the top of her head.

"Maybe we should see what these children of ours are doing," he said.

"They are fine. I checked on them half an hour ago. They were playing in the drawing room with their cousins. It looked like a chess tournament and Rose was leading squarely."

"My dear daughter," Ron said proudly. "Do you fancy a walk on the beach?" he asked Hermione, abruptly changing the subject. He had noticed her slight change of mood after talking with Bill and Fleur and wanted to take her mind off things.

"Why, yes. That sounds lovely," she answered him in a not so subtle flirtatious way.

They walked companionably away from the noisy crowd. They reached the secluded beach a few hundreds of yards away. Hermione removed her high heel shoes and walked barefoot on the sand. Ron lit his wand to provide some light as there was only a sliver of moon shining above the sea. They could still hear the music from where the celebration was still going strong. Ron thought his family could never be the quiet kind and he was glad of it. He took her hand and brought it to his lips.

"Are you alright Love? You seem a bit down," he asked her.

"I am fine. I was just thinking of Bill and Fleur's wedding and what ensued," she answered truthfully.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. It was a mad time, wasn't it?" he replied.

"Indeed it was." She gave a deep sigh. She preferred not to dwell on the past, even if she was proud of what she, Ron, and Harry had done. She looked at him. The light of his wand cast a beautiful aura around him. He had not changed too much in twenty years. A few laugh lines had started to show at the corner of his eyes and there were a few strands of gray among the ginger in his hair. He was nearing forty and was still tall and lean, his freckles and lopsided grin still imparting him a youthful air. She could never grow tired of looking at his face.

She put her head back in the crook of his neck. Then she smelled her favourite scent: a whiff of soap, a hint of mint, and a trace of chocolate. That was what she had smelled years ago, along with freshly mown grass and parchment, when they had been introduced to Amortentia in a potion class. What had comforted her as she felt herself being side-Apparated at this very cottage. What had sustained her, in the form of a borrowed maroon Weasley jumper, through her seventh lonely year at Hogwarts. What she had fallen asleep and woken up to for the last eighteen years. That was pure Ron. The scent of him still made her giddy. She sighed again as she took the comforting and familiar aroma, this time out of contentment.

He gathered her in his arms and asked her softly:

"Would you care to dance?"

She beamed at him as they started swaying to the far away music. She loved dancing with him and the occasions were few and far apart. In the moonlight and alone on the beach, they danced just like they had twenty years before. There was no awkwardness this time, just the comforting familiarity of a long lasting love. They knew each other by heart but the thrill of being close remained. As the music ended, they stopped. Slowly, Ron took her face in his hands, stroking her cheeks with his long fingers. He then lowered his head and kissed her tenderly.

"I love you Hermione, always," he murmured against her lips.

He could still surprise her with the tenderness he could show her.

"I love you too," she replied and she took him in another kiss, slow and seductive, buoyed by the scent of him. The kiss evolved and hands searched under clothing to reach bare skin. He took off his dress robes and put them on the sand before drawing her down with him. They kept disrobing, all the while caressing and kissing. This type of dance needed no other music than their ragged breathing or their hearts drumming hard. They knew each step by heart and had performed it too many times to count.

They found themselves naked and having no care for the world around them at that instant. Hermione ran a hand tenderly over Ron's chest, enjoying the familiar planes, lingering lightly over his flat nipples. She brought her lips to join her fingers, inhaling appreciatively the comforting scent of him. This brought the same anticipation as the smell of old parchment she associated with her favourite, well-read books. She could lose herself the same way, all consumed in an engrossing story or in Ron, her Ron.

He was lying on his back, caressing her hair, her back and her rear idly. Her hands and lips kept roaming down his body, always lower until she took him in her mouth, eliciting a wild groan of pleasure. His hands twisted in her wild hair. She drove him to the brink of madness with slow and lazy caresses. She released him and moved back up his body, raining thousands of light kisses along the way, brushing her nipples teasingly against his flushed skin. She reached his face and kissed his chin, his nose, his forehead before finally taking his mouth possessively. He grabbed her head with both hands and responded with much urgency, ravishing her mouth.

She broke the kiss. She could feel he was very close to his release and wanted to be part of this particular journey. She seized his hand and started directing him down. He needed no further instruction. He used his long fingers to touch her in all the places he knew would build in her the same anticipation there was in him, her soft moans guiding him along the way. Not being able to resist anymore, he grabbed her and flipped her on her back. She opened for him and he dived in, burying himself in her. Their bodies melded seamlessly, with a practised familiarity. They moved in perfect rhythm. In mere moments their chorus of satisfaction echoed loudly as they both got lost in the other.

Hermione could feel Ron's warm body lying on top of her. She loved the warmth of it, the feel of his weight. She ran her hand through his hair. They each held an uncanny fascination with the other's hair. He looked thoroughly spent. She certainly felt thoroughly spent and could probably fall asleep there. She heard him mumble:

"We probably should move."

"Not sure I can," she answered truthfully. "And it's dark," she pointed out. The wand had been extinguished and the night was mostly dark, except for the tiny sliver of moon in the sky.

"Yeah but my arse is naked and it is so white I am sure it can be seen from miles away."

"I like you naked white arse," she answered cheekily.

He turned his head and flashed his trademark lopsided grin at her.

"So you say... so you say. Seriously, Love, we need to move. People will wonder where we disappeared."

"I can't move until you do."

He rose away from her and looked for his wand. He lit it and gave Hermione a hand to help her stand. They dressed back in silence, just smiling at each other with the complicity of long-time lovers.

They walked back hand in hand toward the cottage where the party was still going strong. They passed dancing couples. Hermione smiled when she saw the look of adoration on Arthur's face as he danced with Molly. Harry winked at Hermione with an all knowing grin on his face. She winked back. Ron ignored them pointedly since Harry had one hand possessively placed around Ginny's waist and the other one squarely on her backside.

They looked through the window of the drawing room. Hugo was playing Exploding Snap with Lily. Rose was in an animated discussion with her other two cousins James and Al. Hermione had a slight pinch to her heart thinking that Rose was going to leave for Hogwarts in less than a month. As if reading her mind Ron told her:

"She will be alright. We will be too."

And she knew he was right. She put her head back on his shoulder and was comforted again by the delicious hints of soap, mint, and chocolate that were Ron. It was happiness and it was not going anywhere.

* * *

**A/N**_ So here you are, this is the end. I end on a happy note because these two deserve happiness since they've had their fair share of bad things early on. I had fun writing this. Please review._


End file.
